


the monsters turned out to be just trees

by thekaidonovskys



Series: we found love in a hopeless place [13]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Age Play, Alternate Universe - BDSM, Dom Clint Barton, M/M, Non-Sexual Age Play, Past Child Abuse, Relationship Negotiation, Sub Phil Coulson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-05-26 06:25:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6227413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekaidonovskys/pseuds/thekaidonovskys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil waits while Clint processes. His heart is hammering - he knows very well why it’s taken so long for this subject to come up, and he’s praying he hasn’t inadvertently unlocked something in Clint’s mind that he’s kept hidden away. For all he’s been distracted by this - and for all that Clint told him back in negotiation that they could discuss this one day -  Phil will never forgive himself if one small want of his has made a mess of Clint’s head.</p><p>[Phil wants to try ageplay, despite his apprehensions. Clint has some pretty big worries of his own. As always, they work it out together.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we finally are. I'd have pushed this out faster, but I'm effectively now doing full-time work and full-time school at the same time and that's going about as well as you'd expect and leaving me with almost enough free time to sleep and eat. But I'll work on keeping updates semi-regular the best I can.
> 
> Warnings for mentions of past child abuse - Clint briefly discusses his childhood in laying out his hard limits.

When Clint calls his name and Phil jumps, knocking over the salt shaker with his elbow, Clint sighs. "Okay, it's time to talk," he says. "Something's wrong."

Phil’s been unfocused and thoughtful all afternoon, and he’s caught many of Clint’s worried looks - he knew this was coming. But he still tries his best to alleviate Clint’s obvious fear. ”Not wrong," Phil protests. "It isn't... nothing's happened, and nothing has to happen, and just because I'm thinking about it doesn't mean I even want it to happen -"

"Quiet," Clint orders gently, and Phil silences himself. "Come and sit on the couch with me."

Phil follows behind and settles himself in the corner of the couch where he can look at Clint properly. Clint sits sideways, one knee tucked up to rest his chin on, and examines Phil for a long moment. Phil is used to scrutiny like this, but today he squirms a little and breaks eye contact. 

Clint sighs again. "I want you to share with me, in one clear and simple sentence, what's going on."

Phil nods and takes a moment to assemble it. He hates how hard this is, how foreign it is to not just be able to speak his mind freely around his Dom, but this matters - not because of how much it matters to Phil, but because of how badly it could spook Clint. “Before I do that,” he says tentatively, because he has been given an order and he’s technically now breaking that, “you’ll - I know you will, you always do, but I need to hear it from you - if this conversation is something you can’t do, you’ll end it, right?”

“I know both of our limits very well,” Clint says. “If I really can’t handle it, yes, I will stop.” 

Phil nods, and takes a deep breath. ”Age play has been crossing my mind a lot lately," he says, "and I've been worried about not only your response, but my own reactions to it."

"Okay," Clint says slowly, then pauses.

Phil waits while Clint processes. His heart is hammering - he knows very well why it’s taken so long for this subject to come up, and he’s praying he hasn’t inadvertently unlocked something in Clint’s mind that he’s kept hidden away. For all he’s been distracted by this - and for all that Clint told him back in negotiation that they could discuss this one day -  Phil will never forgive himself if one small want of his has made a mess of Clint’s head.

But Clint seems okay when he speaks again, thank god. ”You know I'm not saying no right off the bat,” he says. “I did say we could discuss it more in the future if it became necessary - but you also know that I have my issues around this.” Clint stops again, then sighs. “Which I now realize is why you were so unsure about bringing this up; I'm sorry, Phil. I didn't mean to make you feel like you couldn't tell me."

"It's okay. You told me we could talk about it, I just didn’t want to… say anything at the wrong time.”

“You’re very considerate, sweet boy,” Clint says with a small smile. “I’m happy to discuss it, but you need to know upfront that the discussion could end with me saying no."

"I understand. I'm not even sure if I want it. I mean, I clearly want it on some level, or else I wouldn't be thinking about it, but I don't know whether I really want to try it or if I'd even like it." Phil sighs and runs a hand over his face. "Can you guide me through it, please? I don't know what to say."

"Of course, honey," Clint says. "I need to hard limit something immediately, though, and this might end the conversation before it begins. If you want to play with this on a sexual level, I'm saying no."

Phil shakes his head. "No. I really don't. And even calling it play feels like the wrong word - it's not a scene."

"It is," Clint argues gently. “Age play is an altered frame of mind, and it's something I need to know will end after a period of time, set or not, and that if you use your safeword or if I need to bring you back to yourself, it'll end. I need to think of it as a scene."

"Okay. I understand - what I meant was it's not the kind of scene you prepare for in advance and plan out. I get the feeling I might just come home some days and need to go little for awhile."

Clint nods. "While we still haven't established what little is or whether we're both prepared to go there, I can accept those being the terms it works on. Why don't you tell me a bit more about what you imagine it would be like?”

Phil takes a moment to try and get his thoughts in order before he begins - despite having this on his mind for awhile, he really hasn’t thought through the specifics. "I think for me it could be a way to set aside an amount of time and just really let go," he says. "Drop all of my worries about work, all of my obligations.”

“Isn’t that what subspace is for?”

Phil shrugs. “Yeah, but that’s… a bit too much sometimes. And it’s an awesome place to be, but that’s basically a complete lack of awareness and this would be - shit, this is hard. Why is this so hard to put in words?”

Clint takes his hand. “You’re doing good, baby. I think I get you - you switch right off when you’re in subspace, whereas if you went little you’d still be able to do things. Kind of like wishing we were civilians after rough days.”

Phil nods. “I think that’s it. And when I think of being able to do things when I’m little, I don't really think of, y'know, like games and colouring in and all that. It's more what I was actually like when I was younger and I had time on my own to play - I'd just be very quiet and read or do puzzles and sometimes I'd use the time to clean my room... have I ever mentioned that I was a very dull child?"

Clint smiles. "It sounds adorable. I can just imagine little Phil tucked away in a corner somewhere with his - well, I guess it wouldn't have been crosswords back then?"

"To my frustration at the time, no. Generally word finds and those logic ones where you get a set of clues and you have to work out who wore a green suit to the opera."

Clint looks highly amused. "Never heard of them, but of course that's what you were doing. Being nice and quiet and well-behaved and... okay. This is starting to put itself together in my head. Because you and your guilt complex don't let yourself do things like that for fun much anymore do you?"

"No. Even when I'm on stand-down, I'm always alert. I mean, except when I’m in subspace, of course. But even when I'm at your feet, relaxed and calm and happy, I'm always a second away from snapping into work mode. I want a time when work mode is gone."

"Tucked away with big Phil," Clint murmurs. "Okay, look, here's my deal breaker. How are you going to refer to me?"

"Honestly? I probably won't."

Clint blinks. "Won't what?"

"Refer to you. I was... very quiet. When I was younger. I didn't speak unless spoken to, and even then I only replied if I had to. On one hand, I was painfully shy for quite a few years; on the other, I just enjoyed the quiet. So if I go little, I'm more or less going non-verbal too. And I'm no expert on this, but I think if you were to - to introduce yourself, I guess, as Clint or however you'd like to be addressed, I'd keep calling you that. When I spoke. Which wouldn't be much."

"So basically if I agree to this, I'm going to have periods of time every so often where little Phil shows up, finds himself a puzzle book and a corner, and doesn't say very much?" Phil nods tentatively, and Clint smiles. "Hey, that's way better than I ever imagined an age play scenario going. I think I can give you that."

"You can?"

“I’m pretty sure, sweetheart. There's a lot of small details to sort out and I'll need to work out exactly what my hard limits are, but I’m prepared to give it a go."

“I’d like that,” Phil says quietly. “I don’t think I’d ask a lot of you as a little except to... to look after me. Not just like how you do now, but in more of a caretaking way.”

Clint hums. ”To make you snacks and things? Keep an eye on you, kind of like a babysitter?"

"Yeah. Is it easier to think of it that way? That I’m - it’s not that I’m someone you don’t care about, because I don’t think I could handle it completely detached, but that there’s not an intimate connection? You’re responsible for me but not…” Phil bites his lip, because of course they had to talk about this but he hates that they’re going here. “I don't think you want me saying it.”

“If you call me Daddy, I’m gonna have some kind of panic attack,” Clint says bluntly, letting go of Phil’s hand to clasp his own together tight. “That’s a fact. I don’t want to have panic attacks at the best of times, and if you’re in an altered frame of mind and I’m even more responsible for you, it’s going to go bad. We need to… we can’t go there. Just because I know I have _Daddy issues_ -“ he emphasises the words with air quotes and an eye roll, “- doesn’t mean I’m anywhere near resolved about them.”

“I know,” Phil says. “You don’t have to -“

“Let me, okay? Please? You’ve… you’ve made everything clear. I want this on record, even if we both know.” Phil nods and Clint sighs. “My dad was an abusive asshole, and that’s all I knew when I was a kid. I didn’t realise that someone could discipline you and still love you - someone tried to compare parenting to dominating when I was a teenager and I laughed at them because I told them that dominating comes from actually at least liking the person you’re giving orders to. When I found out people pretended their Doms were their parents, I thought they were playing on some kind of deep, fucked up level, where they actually got treated like I did. If you were to put me in a position of thinking of me as your Daddy… it’s not just that I don’t have a frame of reference. It’s that I’d remember how I saw my dad and think of you seeing me like that and I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.”

Phil doesn’t reach out for him. Clint is skitterish when he has to talk about his past, and any hands coming towards him may be met badly. “Thank you for making it clear,” he murmurs instead. “I know it’s not easy for you to share, and I appreciate you being open with me. And I love you, Clint. For what it’s worth, you’re not him. You never could be. You’re kind and generous and selfless and so, so sweet. You would never hurt anybody like you’ve been hurt - especially not me.”

Clint closes his eyes for a few minutes. Phil stays quiet and watches him breathe, slow and deliberate. It’s the way Phil taught him all those years ago after Clint’s first storm-out of a therapy session, when Clint showed up in his office panicked and angry and struggling to breathe. It’s equal parts painful and encouraging to see - it hurts to know how badly Clint still hurts at times, but it’s good that he knows how to calm himself down, that right now Phil knows he’s using the positive affirmation along with the breathing techniques to get himself not only calm but confident in himself.

When Clint looks at him again, he looks a little ashamed. “So, can we ignore that and move on?” he asks.

“Of course.” Phil knows which battles to fight with Clint to make him talk things through, and this is not one of them. Besides, Clint _has_ talked - it’s the promises that he’s fine and talking about why he got upset that Clint doesn’t want to deal with. Phil knows Clint’s as okay as he’ll be, and he knows why Clint’s upset. 

And, as a good submissive, Phil knows the best way to help Clint feel better about himself is to pull the focus back to caring for someone else’s needs. 

“What else do you need to know?” Phil asks, his tone light and easy. 

Clint thinks for a bit. ”Any bratting? Because that would be addressed differently if you were little."

"It depends on how little I go, and what times of day we're doing this... and how far it goes, I guess. I'd like to stay around seven or eight, when I remember the world being a generally great place, because any younger or older and there might be bratting issues."

"What were you like as a teenager?" Clint asks. 

Phil shrugs. "For the most part, laid back. I had my time, like most subs do, of trying to be neutral or dominant, and of course I fought with my mother a lot. But nothing to report other than that."

"Okay." Clint hesitates, then brings a gentle hand to Phil's cheek. "I need to ask. I know it was years ago, but if it hurts, I'm sorry. When did your dad die?"

Phil furrows his brow, then smiles a little as he understands. "When I was nine," he says. "So, yes, eight was picked quite deliberately. It's not so much that I'm strictly sticking to being that age, but that I don't want to be remembering how I was on the other side of that. I want to go back to the simple times when things like death weren't real to me." 

"I thought so." Clint presses a soft kiss to his forehead. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Like you said, it was years ago. I'm fine."

Clint smiles. “Good. Sorry, go on - times of day?"

Phil smiles a little. "If I'm tired, I will automatically fight bedtime."

"Why am I not surprised?" Clint tilts his head and looks at Phil contemplatively. "For someone who isn't sure if he wants this or not, you've got it pretty sorted."

"This is still all hypothetical, and really just based on how I remember acting when I was a kid. But I - I think I'd like it, and if I did this is how I imagine it going down, but it might not be like this. I might not be able to slip into the required headspace, or I could be mortified after the first time doing it and never try it again. Or... or it could go really well."

Clint takes his hand again. "Have you ever been in the kind of mood where you feel like you could slip into being little?"

"I think so? I mean, I'm used to coming home and switching to another person, in a sense, and some of those days I probably could have shut all of the control aspects right down. And... you're really good with kids."

Clint blinks. "I am?"

"Yeah. That photoshoot with Steve and the kids and the way you got down to their level and talked to them in that really gentle voice and I - I think that might have been the first time I started thinking about it. Because I thought of you treating me like that and it felt really good."

Clint smiles. "Am I not sweet enough to you already?" he teases softly. 

Phil smiles too. "Of course you are. You're the reason I feel safe enough to even think of doing this."

Clint lowers his knee, shifts closer and wraps his arms around Phil. "This went far better than anticipated," he says. "I'll take some time to think about where I need to set my hard limits, and maybe you can start writing up some terms for if we put this in our contract?"

"Yes master. Thank you for being so good about this."

"I was never against you being little, sweetheart," Clint murmurs, pressing a kiss to his hair. “And as long as we take it slow and talk about everything and are both careful, we’ll make it work. I just need to know that it's not going to trigger me or make me incapable of giving you what you need."

"If you can't, I'm not going to be upset. I want you to stay safe."

“Good boy," Clint says. "I'm glad you shared this with me - I know I made my apprehensions quite clear, and I was a bit worried that it would stop you from telling me what you need."

"I know to always be honest with you.”

“ _Such_ a good boy,” Clint says, then chuckles when Phil shivers. “I bet you were the most praise hungry kid.”

“My parents swear they knew I was a sub from about age two,” Phil admits.

Clint laughs, then draws Phil’s head up so he can kiss him. “We’ll go shopping sometime next week,” he says. “Pick out some fun things.”

“Except this will be _very_ different shopping to what you usually mean when you say we’re going out to pick out some fun things.”

“Nothing says we can’t shop for both.”

Phil hums in agreement, and kisses Clint again - and within a few minutes, finds himself pushed back into the couch with his wrists pinned above his head for some proper kissing, and all thoughts of age play gone from his mind. That’s for another day. For now, Phil is very happy to be an adult. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: going shopping; or the one where Clint works on his mental barriers and Phil finds out what it's like to go fuzzy


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now Phil just wants to run, wants to get them both out of there because Clint's uncomfortable and Phil's so far out of his depth and neither of them can help the other cope. But they're here to do this - Clint might be closed-off, but he’s also got his determined face on - so Phil nods, squares his shoulders, and heads in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the positive feedback on this one so far. Ageplay is something I only really came to terms with liking in the past year or so, so I still feel a bit hesitant writing it. I hope you continue to enjoy.

By the time the shopping weekend rolls around, Phil’s starting to wonder if this is a good idea at all.

It’s not that Clint’s said anything, or made any signs of reluctance. He’s the one who, the night before, reminded Phil of their plans and asked how he was feeling about it. And, when Phil naturally asked him the question in return, Clint had simply shrugged and explained that this is so far out of his realm of experience that he doesn’t even know how to feel - but he’s prepared for it.

So sure, Clint seems fine. Clint probably thinks he’s fine.

But Phil’s been watching. Phil’s been listening. And Phil’s noticed one tiny thing that might tell him more about how Clint’s feeling than Clint himself could.

Clint’s stopped calling Phil his sweet boy.

The pet names haven’t stopped, oh no. Phil knows there’s no way on earth that Clint would stop with the pet names. Phil’s still _sweetheart_ and _honey_ and _baby_ and all the other too-cute names Clint likes to drop at the end of virtually every sentence. But Phil’s always been Clint’s sweet boy, and it’s always been unspoken that it’s one of their favourite pet names. Clint would never take it away from him deliberately, as punishment or as a sign that he’s unhappy about their impending plans. And Clint would never stop using it without letting Phil know why, lest Phil start worrying that it is in fact a punishment.

Which means Clint isn’t aware he’s stopped.

It’s only a name. It shouldn’t matter. But when it comes to this, any detail that points to something potentially being wrong matters.

So they’re going ahead with it, of course, because they’ve come this far and Phil wants this and Clint seems to want him to want it. But Phi’s going ahead with this with more than a little apprehension - Clint will not be hurt by this. Phil will make sure of it.

***

With those thoughts in the back of Phil’s mind, they enter the store.

Like most children's stores, the shop is divided in two - one section for actual children, and the other for age play participants. Naturally children aren’t allowed into the adult section - just because it’s the same store and same items for sale, doesn’t mean young children should understand why grownups are playing with them (those lessons come later, after Ranking and general Sex Ed) - but the stock is all but identical from one store to the other. The only real difference between the two is the age of the customers, and the lack of running and yelling that the children's store elicits.

But as Phil looks around, he realises that perhaps the two are more similar than he had anticipated.

Public acts of domination and submission are acceptable to a certain extent, more so within specific buildings of designation. Clubs, of course, are basically no holds barred areas (with obvious rules to follow such as respecting a submissive in white and not stepping in on another Dom’s territory), while many restaurants adhere to strict rules of service and behaviour, with kneelers all but mandatory. But apart from that, out in public the only way a sub can be differentiated from a Dom is the way they smell - and really, a Dom would have to be very close to notice that anyway - and if they have their collar on display. Even those who regularly partake in public humiliation, an accepted practice, understand that it has a time and place and is certainly not designed for the streets of New York. It’s generally just respect to others to not be overtly submissive or dominant in a public setting, and to go to designated areas if one wishes to act out their wishes in a public setting.

Phil hadn't factored in that a store dedicated to supplies for age players might be the kind of place where people feel free to demonstrate that play publicly.

It's not overt though - it takes an overheard conversation and a few more focused looks around for Phil to see it. There's no tantrums being thrown or anybody acting noticeably child-like. But as he looks, Phil can see the ones getting a little too excited about purchases, and the ones waiting patiently while new toys are tested out slightly more throughly than required.

Of course it makes sense; a trip to the toy store is a treat for any kid, and it's easy to see people incorporating it into their play - not to mention those who live this way near-permanently not having any choice in the matter. But Phil hadn't anticipated it or prepared for it, and it takes him a few minutes to stop looking around and staring.

When he finally does, and looks at Clint, Phil's heart sinks. Clint's whole posture has changed as he takes the scene in, closing off and making him near-unapproachable. He's tense and reluctant, and Phil doesn't know what to do. "Clint?" he asks.

Clint blinks and looks at him. "Hm? Thought you were going shopping."

And now Phil just wants to run, wants to get them both out of there because Clint's uncomfortable and Phil's so far out of his depth and neither of them can help the other cope. But they're here to do this - Clint might be closed-off, but he’s also got his determined face on - so Phil nods, squares his shoulders, and heads in.

It's horrible at first. Phil walks through aisles, slowing occasionally but never stopping, too afraid to pick something up in case Clint doesn't like it. He's not in touch at all with the part of himself that he tentatively thinks might be his little self, so he doesn't even know what he might like. Clint follows him, a step behind but miles away. Phil doesn't try to engage him, more and more convinced with every step that this was a bad decision, that this isn't what their lives need, and that they should just leave now. He’s already mapping out how best to get back to the door and what to say, when he turns the corner and just about runs into…

The _softest stuffed animals he has ever seen in his life._

It's a display of various animals from other countries - or at least animals associated with them, as the Chinese dragon in the middle probably isn't too accurate. Phil's at the Australian end, face to... well, nose to nose with a stuffed wombat twice the size of his head. It's brown and has a big soft nose and is basically one huge sphere of fluff and Phil -

Shit.

Phil's stroking it. He doesn't even know how or when or how long he's been standing here, trance-like, stroking the soft fur of the wombat's head. He snatches his hand away and turns to Clint, half ready to apologise, and Clint -

Oh.

Clint's taken down his guard; for the first time since they entered the store, it feels like he's actually _here_. His eyes are wide and soft and he's smiling, equal mixtures of surprised and fond. "So that's how it is," he says, but with no hint of teasing or, more importantly, disgust. "How does it feel?"

Phil knows Clint isn't talking about the wombat's fur. "It feels... like my heart hurts. But a really good kind of hurt. And I feel - I feel small. Like I could wrap myself around it and curl up and be still and quiet and - and little."

He's blushing badly by the end of that, but the honesty has paid off - far from scaring Clint away, it seems to have brought him closer. Clint wraps an arm around Phil for a moment and presses a kiss to his forehead, then picks up the wombat. "Anything else that makes you feel that way?" he asks.

There are a few more things they find as they meander through the toys - a small dog with floppy ears, a rabbit the size of Phil's hand - but none of them induce quite the same level of... littleness. Clint snags a basket to put them in, then hands the wombat back to Phil, which Phil tucks it under his arm. There's room in the basket, but it goes unspoken that Phil's happier this way - and Clint doesn't seem to have a single problem with that.

And now the barricade has crashed down. Clint starts asking questions as they go through craft supplies and puzzle books, and Phil doesn't hesitate to express his feelings about things, now that he's actually gotten in touch with said feelings. He goes off instinct and his gut, picking out a few simple reading books and actually laughing with delight when he finds a book entirely devoted to the types of logic puzzles he used to do as a kid. Clint's grinning as Phil flips open to a random page and explains how they work, and Clint's the one to tentatively suggest some colouring books, Phil choosing the one Clint likes the best.

When they line up to pay, Phil steps a little closer to Clint and, with only a moment of hesitation, rests his head on Clint’s shoulder. He’s usually sparing with his affection in public, simply because neither of them are big on PDA, but right now Phil just wants to be closer to Clint. Clint doesn’t seem to mind, wrapping an arm around him and letting Phil stay close as they shuffle towards the counter. Phil zones out a little, staring at the back of the head of the person in front of them, and only comes back to awareness when they move away and Clint steps up to the counter. Phil blinks a few times, then straightens up and tries to pretend he’s an adult -

Wait.

When was he _not_ an adult?

It takes a moment for Phil to think it through, and by the time he has, Clint’s paid and is moving them away from the counter, watching Phil closely. “Okay, sweet boy?” he asks.

Phil smiles and takes his hand. “Now I am,” he says. “You know you stopped calling me that?”

“I did? Shit.”

Phil squeezes his hand reassuringly, then leads them both out. “It’s alright. You’re good now, and I’m… pretty damn good, actually.”

“Yeah?” They step out of the store and Clint flags down a taxi. “You tuned out a little in there,” he says, gesturing Phil in ahead of him.

Phil waits until they’re settled with their purchases and are pulling into traffic. “I was just processing how happy I felt,” he says quietly. “Different kind of happiness to what I’m used to.”

“Oh? You mean… like, little happiness?”

“I think so. Something in me that I haven’t realised wasn’t content, now _is_ content.” Phil glances at the driver, professionally keeping his eyes on the road but probably listening to every word, then lowers his voice a little further. “Let’s discuss it more at home.”

“Good idea. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”

Phil, smiling, rests his head on Clint’s shoulder and closes his eyes. The wave of contentedness is still there, and Phil rides it, letting himself drift back out of focus.

When Clint gently gets his attention to tell him they're home, Phil blinks back to reality and realises he's got the wombat cuddled up to his chest and one of his thumbs is dangerously close to his mouth. He quickly straightens up and looks around sheepishly - the taxi driver is still looking away from them, and Clint just smiles at him, taking Phil's hand and leading him out of the taxi. He's got all the shopping in his other hand, leaving Phil free to hold the wombat under his other arm as they enter the tower. Phil's still feeling kind of fuzzy around the edges and stays quiet, holding Clint's hand tight.

He's hoping for a clear run, but of course that never happens. Mercifully, it's the best case scenario, with Steve and Bucky waiting for the lift as Clint and Phil arrive. They both look over, read the situation in a glance, and then Bucky grins. "Oh my god, he's so cute!" he says, and Phil's about to get affronted until he realises that Bucky's talking about the wombat. "Is he soft? Can I stroke him?"

"Sure," Phil says, and holds him up so Bucky can run his fingers lightly over the fur. Something in him grumbles in discontent about sharing, and Phil files that away for consideration.

"Damn, that's nice,” Bucky says. “Stevie, can I have a wombat? Please?"

Steve smiles. "We'll see, baby."

"Have you named him?" Bucky asks as the lift arrives and they all pile in.

Phil chuckles and shakes his head. "I'll save that for when I'm... in the right frame of mind."

Bucky lightly knocks their shoulders together. "Yeah, I feel you," he says, and Phil knows he's not just saying that. Not everybody age plays of course, but Phil’s known for awhile that Bucky does. For some reason they haven’t discussed it - another thing for Phil to consider later. Right now he’s not up for too much thinking.

Bucky seems to sense that, and resumes his conversation with Steve, waving goodbye as they reach their floor and step out. That leaves Phil with Clint again, who steps close and hugs Phil. “I love you, sweet boy,” he murmurs.

Phil sighs happily and returns the embrace (the best he can while holding a giant wombat). “Love you too.”

He’s sure JARVIS intentionally slows the lift to give them a moment, but it’s still far too soon when the lift opens and they have to break apart and walk to their apartment like normal people. Phil takes the bags from Clint once they’re inside and heads off to store them. Once Phil's put everything except the wombat away, which he sets on the coffee table, he turns to find Clint watching him. "C'mere, honey," Clint murmurs, and Phil goes to him, Clint drawing him down to the couch and hugging him. "I'm glad we got a positive end to the day," Clint says.

"You thought we might not too?" Phil sighs when Clint nods, curling in tighter. "Yeah. Thought any chance of it happening was gone when we walked in. I was worried that you weren't..."

"I was worried too. It did kinda spook me when we first walked in, and then after that I wasn't sure how to respond or what to say or ask. And you were so - you weren't even touching anything. I wasn't sure -"

“You were already freaked out. I didn’t want to make it worse.”

Clint strokes his cheek. “And I appreciate that you were trying to look out for me. But I think when it comes to this, you need to trust me to call it if I need to, just like I need to do the same with you. We’re both new to this, and coming at it from completely different backgrounds and with completely different needs and understandings. Of course I’ll still be keeping an eye on you, and I know you’ll do the same for me - but we each really need to focus on figuring out our own parts in this, what it entails, where our limits are, and - especially in your case - what you want and like. Because if you can’t bring me at least a relatively clear picture of what you like, I won’t know how to give that to you from my side.”

Phil nods, understanding. “I was thinking I’d probably need to spend some time alone with the stuff we bought today,” he admits. “Like, I know on an instinctive level that it’s the kind of stuff I want, but I don’t really know how all of it makes me feel… except the wombat. But even that, I’m still figuring out the hows and whys and then working out where you fit into that equation and what I need from you to make it happen.”

“That’s exactly what I need,” Clint says. “Show me what you like and how this works for you - I know we're not going into a full scene until we're both prepared, but seeing how you reacted this afternoon... that helps."

"Did you... like it? What you saw?"

Clint smiles softly. "You were adorable, honey - and that's exactly what I needed to see. I couldn't get my head around it before, because I couldn't see you doing it and I couldn't get past my own hang ups to try and imagine it."

"I really couldn't picture it either until it happened," Phil admits. "Huge disconnect between how I normally act and how that weird voice that occasionally pipes up wants me to act.”

Clint nods. "Did you like it? How you felt?”

“Yeah. Once we bought things and it was happy, I realised how good it could be when it gets what it wants. It’s - a bit frightening, but that’s because I realised how easily I can slip if I choose to. But I think if it was just you and me and our room and no chance of anything going wrong if I went down, then it’d be really good.”

“I’m glad to hear that. So it’s like a different person completely? Because you’re talking about _it_ being happy.”

Phil nods. “Seems like it. I think it might be easier to think of us separately too. It’s a part of me, but it’s not like how being a sub is a part of me because that’s always there and always influences how I act. With this little part, it’s like something I can… sort of _become_ when the situation is right. And it feels different being him - well, obviously. You’ve kinda seen.”

Clint’s watching him contemplatively. “Kinda,” he echoes. “When you first found that ridiculously cute wombat -“ Phil chuckles, looking over at it fondly, and Clint smiles, “when I saw you with that,” he continues, “and you were just zoned out, stroking it… I definitely saw the potential. And then again in the taxi.”

“Yeah, I think that was a bit more… uncontrolled, though. Like I was just giving in to the instinct and the feelings. I think in an actual scene, I’d be in that same frame of mind, but I wouldn’t just zone out.”

Clint hums. “Think that’s something you’ve got control over yet?”

Phil considers it, then picks up the wombat, places it in his lap and looks down at it for a moment. He strokes the soft - seriously, so soft - fur atop its head, then picks it up and wraps his arms around it tight, pressing his cheek to it. He closes his eyes and rubs his cheek against the fur a little, curling in on himself more. He feels small and happy and safe - and even knowing that Clint is watching him doesn't make him feel embarrassed or panicked. That's important. Also important is that he’s not zoned out - clearly he has at least a little control.

"I can't handle how cute you are," Clint says, and Phil smiles without opening his eyes. “Still with me?”

“Yeah.”

”And are you - um. Little? Or headed there?”

“Not quite. Just..." Phil opens his eyes and shrugs a little. "A bit fuzzy?" he says, his voice oddly quiet. "A bit less responsible. Kinda..."

"Vulnerable," Clint completes, and there's a new understanding in his eyes that Phil is so glad to see. He doesn't need Clint to completely get it, just enough that he feels safe being in charge of Phil when he drops all control completely - and it looks like Clint is on his way to getting there. "Do you want to go any further with this right now?" Clint asks.

Phil sighs and puts the wombat down. "Yes," he says, "but not without some more discussion. I know we need to talk about this more before you're ready to go further. But, just so you know, I could have gone right down then."

"That's good, isn't it?"

Phil smiles. "Yeah," he murmurs. "It's good."

Clint hugs him again. “I’m glad you brought this up, baby,” he says. “Not just because it’s making you so happy - which would be more than enough on its own - but because I wrote this off as something I’d never see myself doing, and you’re showing me how good it can be even within my limits.”

“I’m really glad,” Phil says, kissing his cheek. “I never wanted this to be one-sided. And I did wonder… I mean, you won me over to occasionally incorporating a leash in the bedroom, so I had hoped it might work the same for you.”

“I think as long as we’re considerate of one another and know how to say stop, we can explore a lot of things together,” Clint says. “Some hard limits are always going to be hard limits, no matter the partner. Others, I think, maybe just need the right relationship to see whether they’re a bit more flexible than originally thought. And if they’re not, then it doesn’t matter.”

Phil nods, then smirks. “Like your hard limit of me ever dominating you?”

Clint gives him a contemplative look. “You know you hit my competency kink in all the right ways,” he says.

“Oh god,” Phil says, closing his eyes. “Isn’t one new thing enough for now?”

Clint laughs, then draws Phil in and kisses him, which he takes as a yes to shelve that for another day.

(Phil certainly doesn’t plan on forgetting it, though. Clint’s reactions to his competency is something Phil is more than happy to think about playing with some day.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole fic is inspired by my own stuffed wombat that makes me feel the good kind of little when I cuddle it. It’s massive and adorable. 
> 
> Next chapter: Once they've had a few trials and worked out what works for them, ageplay becomes, while not the norm, normal. A normal scene ensues.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little Phil sees Clint as a safe place, as someone who’ll give him hugs and be his friend, and that is so damn heartwarming that sometimes Clint wants to cry over the simple level of unwavering trust he gets from Phil when he’s like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first time I've written a proper age play scene. Please be kind.

Eight hours straight in the field takes its toll on everybody. And everybody decompresses differently.

Clint doesn't get to see Phil until the area is secure and he and Tony are allowed to come down. When he arrives and sees Phil, strong and focused as he talks to Thor, Clint can't help but feel a stupid wave of affection wash over him. The fact that this is the same Phil who willingly kneels at his feet and calls him master is still mind blowing to Clint. 

Phil catches his eye and nods him over. Clint goes, slipping back into field mode, and answers all of the questions required before being instructed to check in with medical while Phil does the same process with Tony and Steve. Once they're all cleared and Phil's finished shutting down the site and eradicating all traces of SHIELD, they finally get themselves packed into a car and heading home. 

And that's when Phil goes silent. 

Clint can feel the restlessness in Phil, can see how tightly he's holding his hands together to stop them from fidgeting, and he knows Phil's losing his neutral projection fast. "Hey," Clint murmurs quietly into his ear, mindful of the other three sitting across from them. "You need to drop when we get home?"

Phil unlaces his hands and subtly holds one thumb and forefinger slightly apart, signalling a little bit. Except, for Phil, it doesn't mean quite that. 

Clint nods, and takes his hand. He catches Steve's eye, the other two deep in conversation and unnoticing, and gives him a small nod to confirm that Phil's fine. Steve nods back and returns to the conversation. 

It doesn't bother Clint that Steve checks in on Phil. Clint does the same to Bucky - it's part of being good friends with other Doms and their subs. And Clint always likes knowing how many people in the world care about his boy. 

The car pulls up and Clint waits for the others to get out before following Phil. He takes his hand again once they're out, squeezing lightly, and he can tell by the tighter than normal pressure of Phil's grip that he's slipping already. The hand holding is always the first indication, and Clint knows not to let go. 

Phil silently follows Clint as they head to the lifts. Steve joins them, heading up to Bucky, while Tony goes to one of his labs and Thor heads to the kitchen. In the safety of the lift, and with only Steve present, Phil steps a little closer and Clint curls his other arm around him, lightly rubbing his back. "Good boy," he says gently, using the very soft tone that only comes out on days like these. 

Steve clearly recognises the tone, and pitches his voice low and soothing when he talks to Clint, keeping the atmosphere how Phil needs it. "Long day, huh?"

"Sure was," Clint agrees. They’ve been controlling the latest experiments coming out of a notorious group of animal testers - the type that like to test high powered steroids mixed with hallucinogenics, and set the product loose. Long day indeed. "Looking forward to a night in."

"Me too. Bucky's going to have dinner on the table for me."

Phil tenses a little - not quite down enough to be ignoring the ‘adult conversation’ then - and Clint squeezes his hand. "I'm cooking for my sweet boy tonight," he says. "He's earned it."

Phil relaxes and Steve smiles. "He sure has."

The lift stops at Steve's floor a moment later. "Tell Bucky we said hi," Clint says. 

"Will do," Steve says, stepping out. "You two have a great night."

With Steve gone, Phil presses closer, and Clint knows he’s slipping completely, down that final drop to the safe place that little Phil calls home. Clint continues rubbing his back until they reach their floor, then gently pushes him away, keeping hold of his hand. "Come on, beautiful boy," he murmurs, leading Phil to their room. "Don't forget to take off your shoes."

Phil nods. He doesn't need reminding, of course, but part of the appeal of this for him is having simple tasks spelled out, all of his expectations made perfectly clear. Once they're inside, he lets go of Clint's hand long enough to remove his shoes, placing them neatly on the rack, and then hangs up his suit jacket. 

"Good boy," Clint says, his own shoes off, and takes his hand again. "Do you want to get changed into something more comfortable? I'm going to."

Phil nods again and follows Clint to the bedroom, Clint adjusting to the silence. This is always one of the weirdest parts for him - they’ve done this successfully a handful of times now, and watching Phil go almost completely non-verbal is always strange. But it doesn’t take too long to become natural; even better because there’s no expectation for Clint to fill the silence. Quiet is good for nights like these. 

Clint finds Phil a pair of jeans and a sweater, hands them to him, then turns his back while Phil gets changed, digging out clothes of his own. Phil might still be his same Phil, but while his preferred mental age is that of an eight year old, Clint is going to turn his back. It's not that he thinks Phil would care - this one is Clint's hard limit, and one of quite a few. 

The hard limits don't stop him from taking care of his boy, though.

When Clint turns back around, Phil's watching him with soft, wide eyes, perfectly at ease but waiting to be told what Clint wants, and Clint just has to smile at him. He loves Phil all the time, but there's a special, different sort of love he feels for him when Phil's like this - a love that surprised Clint himself when he first became aware of it, but one he feels just as strongly as any other.

Clint takes his hand and leads Phil back out to the living room, pausing to let Phil choose his seat. Sometimes Phil likes the floor - not to be at Clint’s feet, but because, Clint suspects, the floor has always been a comfortable place for Phil. But most nights, like tonight, Phil picks the huge armchair that he can curl himself up in. While he does that, Clint brings Phil’s box over and crouches down so he's at Phil's level. "Here you go, sweet boy," he says, handing it over. "What are you choosing today?" 

Phil rummages through it, then brings out a book. It looks like it's designed for about six or seven year olds, but Clint knows Phil was an advanced reader at that age and ended up skipping over a whole lot of books by reading ahead. He's explained how he likes using this time to catch up on some of the books he missed at that age, and Clint of course had no problem buying him a whole set of them - and everything else Phil’s little heart desires. 

He smiles at Phil and puts the box on the table next to him. "That looks like a great choice," Clint says. "I'm going to get started on dinner, okay? You'll be fine here, reading your book like a good boy?" Phil nods, watching him with such sweet, wide eyes, and Clint lightly kisses his forehead. "Anything you want for dinner?"

"Pasta," Phil murmurs. His voice isn't quite childish, but the intonation is different - quieter, softer, and a bit shy. On the rare occasions Phil does speak, it's adorable. 

"I can do you pasta," Clint says, and Phil gives him a tiny smile in return. "You know where I am if you need me."

Phil nods, and Clint goes to the kitchen, satisfied that he won't see or hear from Phil until it's dinner time - Phil rarely needs him. It's not that he snubs Clint or doesn't want him around, but that he's perfectly happy in his own world enjoying his quiet time. Phil does need to know where Clint is, though, and tends to stress if he feels like he's alone. Clint learned that one the hard way, back when they were figuring all of this out, and now knows to be sure that Phil knows which room Clint is in at all times. The last thing they need is Phil panicking and coming up too fast - that leads to a bad night for sure. 

Clint knows Phil's heard him this time, but he still makes sure to stick his head back in a few times while he's cooking to make his presence known. Phil never acknowledges him, but Clint knows he sees him - Phil doesn't lose his specialist skills when he's little, and is still perfectly aware of his surroundings. He just doesn't consciously analyse them the same way. 

Now that Clint's gotten more used to this arrangement, he's realized how humbling it truly is. Phil is _always_ switched on, always taking everything in and making backup plans for his backup plans. He's as alert as Clint himself, and they've both lived by the same creed for a long time - trust others only when you can’t trust yourself. Even between the two of them, guarding one another's backs at work, the other never switches off. They’ve evolved from the creed, trusting each other by choice and out of love, but they take care of their own safety too. 

But when Phil goes little, he's giving over _everything_. Sure, if a portal opened in the middle of the living room and Loki stepped out, Phil could blink himself back to big Phil pretty quickly to handle things - but he'd have to bring himself back. Because the place he's in right now is not alert, not worried, not prepared for anything. His safety is entirely in Clint's hands, in a way even the complete submission Phil normally gives him isn't. Big Phil trusts Clint because he chooses to; little Phil trusts Clint because he needs to. 

Its humbling. It's also exhausting. Clint could never do this full time - he knows there are couples that do, where the submissive is permanently little in some form, but Clint couldn't handle it. He knows he's always got Phil's safety in his hands to some extent, Phil being his submissive and all, but Phil needs to be responsible for his safety too. Clint can't do it alone. And that's why he and Phil work so well together. Phil's subby as fuck and Clint loves nothing more than taking care of him, but they’re two independent people who make up a team. They do this together. 

But Clint absolutely doesn't begrudge Phil these times of being little. This comes under giving his boy what he needs, after all, and there are very few forces on earth that would stop him from doing that. Clint loves Phil with all of his being, and Phil is so sweet and beautiful, such a genuine delight to be with and have and call his own. In fact, Clint is glad that sometimes age play pushes his limits - he likes to be able to give back what Phil gives to him. 

Clint turns the heat off the pasta and the sauce, then goes back to the living room door. "Five minutes until dinner, Phil," he says. "Finish your chapter, then go wash your hands and sit up at the table." 

Phil nods without looking up. Clint doesn't ask for any more than that - he knows Phil will be sitting at the table with clean hands in five minutes. So instead of hovering, he goes back to the kitchen and dishes up. Dinner is very simple, pasta with a creamy sauce that Clint knows Phil likes. Simple meals are the best for nights like these.

When he brings Phil's plate out, Phil's just coming in. He holds his hands out to prove they're clean - Clint doesn't insist on this one, but apparently it's ingrained - and when Clint nods, pulls out his chair and sits. He doesn't fidget or act at all impatient, just watches calmly and quietly as Clint brings his food over. "Careful, it's hot," Clint warns. "Do you want something to drink? Water?"

"Yes, please."

"Coming right up." Clint brings him the water and gestures for Phil to start eating as he goes back to the kitchen for his own food. He adds a few extra flavours and spices to his dinner, then returns to the dining room to eat. 

Phil's table manners are impeccable, if only sometimes a little rushed if he wants to get back to something, and Clint knows without a doubt that this is how he was when he was younger too. He knows Phil is from a functional family, one with plenty of love and support, but also one with strict rules, and table manners would have been one of them. Phil's been raised 'right' - and, thankfully, raised right for how _Phil_ needed to be, which means raised not only to be a good submissive, but to be independent and strong. 

That said, his boy is currently eight and non-verbal. Right now his independence is in the form of taking his own plate to the dishwasher when he's finished eating. 

Once he's done that, Phil returns to the doorway and waits. Clint's just finishing up his dinner, and smiles up at him. "Go finish your book, darling boy," he says. "I'll be in there soon to watch some TV." 

Phil nods and disappears. Clint doesn’t hurry to finish eating and follow him - he’s always going to be grateful that Phil doesn’t age down far enough that Clint has to keep a constant eye on him. From some of the stories Steve’s told him about Bucky going little, Clint knows it could be a lot more difficult looking after an aged down sub. 

That said, he doesn’t like leaving Phil alone for too long. Clint finishes up, leaves the plates in the kitchen for later, and heads through. When he enters, he finds Phil rummaging through the box again. This time it’s a puzzle book he’s producing - Phil finally showed him those logic puzzles he’d been talking about, and they’re actually pretty cool. He glances up at Clint, then picks up a pencil and curls himself up again. 

“TV okay with you?” Clint asks. Phil nods and Clint smiles. “Good. I’ll be right here if you want me.”

Sometimes that’s enough to encourage Phil to join him, current activity in hand, and either sit at his feet or next to him while he works or reads. But tonight Phil stays where he is, already frowning over a puzzle. He’s also unearthed his favourite toy, the huge stuffed wombat, which is resting in the crook of his free arm. It’s another thing that usually doesn’t come out if Phil has plans to move over to Clint’s side of the room anytime soon. 

Clint doesn’t mind - Phil usually gravitates his way at some point, and Clint’s pretty content to just absently watch whatever PG rated show is on. Another thing that probably doesn’t _really_ matter, but Clint just doesn’t feel comfortable with shows that might have swearing, sex, or violence. That’s not just because he feels like he’s corrupting a kid; Phil goes little to escape that kind of world, Clint wants to keep things as calm and happy for him as possible.

So he ends up watching _Dog Whisperer_ , which is fine because the dogs tonight aren’t violent, just poorly trained. Clint pays very little attention, because Phil’s got the puzzle book out and Clint’s learned pretty quickly that, despite Phil’s pretty idyllic childhood (before the age of nine, that is), there was one deficit that Phil quite likes to make up for when he’s little.

It doesn’t take long. Phil finishes scribbling furiously, smiles to himself, then bites his lip and looks up. Clint looks over, trying to make it seem casual. “How are those puzzles going, sweet boy?” Phil holds up the page, completed, and Clint grins. “Well, aren’t you clever?” he says - and of course that’s genuine, Phil has one of the sharpest minds Clint knows. “Well done, Phil.”

Phil smiles, looks like he’s going to speak, then lowers his head again and flips to the next page. He’s still smiling though, and Clint’s equal parts glad and sad about it. The problem with smart kids like Phil, Clint has come to learn, is that achievements quickly lost their novelty. Apparently there were only so many times a parent could praise a kid for doing well, and Phil had unconsciously learned that he had to be spectacular to warrant praise. 

Clint thinks that’s bullshit. Even when Phil’s big, Clint wishes he had enough words to tell him how much Phil impresses him, how amazing he is at everything he does, how good he is, and how proud he makes Clint feel. He knows Phil’s parents weren’t negligent, but he also knows that no parents are perfect (some are fucking nightmares, as he well knows) and sometimes they do make simple mistakes that have bigger repercussions than planned. 

Besides, these days it isn’t just based on his parents. Phil’s confessed that sometimes he hates the position he's in - because he’s a high ranked submissive working at a high level in SHIELD and getting there was _fucking_ exceptional. And now people just expect amazing things from him all the time, especially other submissives, and Phil is amazing and can usually deliver on those expectations but sometimes he just wants people to remember that getting to where he is was enough of an achievement. Sometimes he just wants praise for the simple things. He’s in the wrong line of work for that, he and Clint both know that one well, and Phil always says it doesn’t _matter_ \- but on some level, it clearly does. 

Clint understands now why such small words of praise nearly brought Phil to pieces in the early stage of their relationship. And now he goes above and beyond to remind Phil all the time that he’s amazing, wonderful, _perfect_ , and so good. 

Phil doesn’t just need this when he’s little, but he needs it more blatantly - and that makes it easier. When Phil’s little, the cues are obvious. When Phil’s big, Clint just errs on the side of caution and offers him praise all the damn time. 

It’s worked out for him so far. 

There are a few more pages for Clint to praise him for, but all too soon Phil packs everything away. It’s still relatively early, just gone eight, but Phil does look pretty tired. They usually don’t do the bedtime thing, so Clint’s pretty sure he knows where things are going to go next.

Sure enough, Phil puts the box and the wombat aside, then looks over at Clint, the question and silent longing in his eyes. Normally, if he were dealing with big Phil, this is where Clint would remind him to use his words, but little Phil is different, and Clint will never pressure him to speak if he doesn't want to. "Do you want a hug, darling boy?" he asks. Phil nods, and Clint smiles, holding out his arms. "C'mon over. I don't bite."

Phil smiles a little and uncurls himself, crossing the room to the couch. He tentatively sits down next to Clint, tucking his legs up beside himself, and lets Clint draw him in. Phil doesn't really hug back like this, seeming to prefer being held, but Clint doesn't mind that. He's happy to hold Phil and let him feel comfortable how he needs to. Little Phil sees Clint as a safe place, as someone who’ll give him hugs and be his friend, and that is so damn heartwarming that sometimes Clint wants to cry over the simple level of unwavering trust he gets from Phil when he’s like this. 

For awhile they just sit like that, Clint half watching TV, half watching Phil, and Phil not really paying much attention to anything. Then, almost warily, Phil lifts his hand and, with a few glances at Clint, puts his thumb in his mouth. Clint doesn't say a word, just encourages Phil to cuddle in closer, and Phil relaxes, resting his head against Clint's chest. 

The thumb sucking was a very hard admission for Phil - partially, Clint knows, because when he's little, Phil's mental age is eight, and Phil feels ridiculous about the fact that he still sucked his thumb on occasion at that age. Mostly, of course, because Phil is an adult, and he's equal parts terrified and mortified of some of the needs that come up when he's little. Clint doesn't judge him for it, just takes it in his stride like he's done with a lot of the things to do with little Phil. Clint wants Phil to feel safe to be who he needs to be - if this is part of it, so be it. It certainly isn't hurting anybody. 

(The one concession he's had to make is getting Phil more regular dentist appointments to check on his alignment. Phil's talked rather mournfully of an awful overbite when he was younger from thumb sucking, and, while the risk is very low, Clint isn't prepared to let that happen again.)

After awhile, Phil's breathing evens out, and his hand slips from his mouth to drop to his lap. Clint strokes his back absently and keeps watching TV, but allows himself to relax out of the very careful persona he puts on when little Phil is around. This is why they don’t need to do bedtime - when little Phil naps, Clint knows that big Phil is going to be the one waking up, and Clint can return to himself. 

Not that who he is changes a lot for little Phil. It's more just about being very soft, very sweet, and very nonsexual. Clint will never be able to play with age play on a sexual level, and he has his hard limits set quite high in this regard, to the point that he won't so much as kiss Phil on the lips while Phil's little. He just can't go down that road, not even a bit. And since Phil has never indicated that he wants anything like that, Clint knows it’s okay. All of this is okay for both of them, and that’s what matters.

So Clint relaxes and lets Phil sleep and waits. Phil never naps for long.

When Phil stirs, Clint mutes the TV and looks down at him. Phil blinks his eyes open, frowning around the room for a moment, then glances up at Clint a little shyly. "Hi," he says. 

"Hey," Clint says, smiling. "Welcome back."

"What's the time?"

"About eight. Want to watch Kitchen Wars? It's just starting."

Phil nods, sitting up properly and stretching. "Sounds good."

He leans against Clint, who puts an arm around him and turns the volume back on. Clint knows Phil won't really take in the program, using the time instead to assimilate the memories of the past couple of hours, but background TV is a good way to allow him to do that without feeling like Clint's waiting on him to get his thoughts together. 

A few minutes before the end of the episode, Phil sighs and snuggles in closer. Clint switches the TV off and turns to hold Phil properly. "Tired?" he asks. 

"Yeah. Long day." Phil looks up, and even now with all of his alertness and age back in the forefront, his eyes are still so sweet. "Feeling a lot better now, though. Thank you."

"My pleasure." Clint presses a gentle kiss to his lips - more of a reassurance to Phil than anything that being little hasn't changed him in Clint's eyes - then smiles at him. "Want to go to bed? I know you just napped but we're both pretty done in."

"Bed sounds good. Showers first sounds even better.”

Clint chuckles. “Good plan. You go ahead first - I still need to wash up from dinner.”

“Do you want me to do that?”

“No, it’s fine, honey. Go grab a shower.”

“Thanks,” Phil murmurs, and heads to the bathroom. Clint watches him go, then heads off to do the dishes - sometimes Phil insists on offering some form of service when he comes back from his little headspace, as a way of putting their roles back to normal, but tonight he seems content to let Clint continue doing things for him. Clint doesn’t mind either way.

It’s still amazing how few things he cares about as long as Phil’s happy.

Dishes done, Clint takes his turn in the shower, then heads in to join Phil in bed - and sighs when he finds that Phil’s laptop has also joined them. “Sorry,” Phil says quickly. “Just a few things that shouldn’t really wait until tomorrow.”

“Guess I should check my emails too,” Clint says, grabbing his tablet. He tends to avoid SHIELD correspondence, figuring that anything important will come to him through Phil anyway, which means that checking his emails is always an ordeal. He fixes that by mass-deleting anything that hasn’t come from R&D, and replies to a few of their requests slightly guiltily with promises that he’ll be in tomorrow. 

Once he’s done, Phil’s done too. And then, last thing before they sleep, they can finally sit down together with the world outside and both of their minds adult, and debrief. Because this part is important to Clint. 

“I wasn’t running from anything,” Phil promises. “There’s nothing I wanted to forget or anything like that - just a fairly high stress day, and I knew I wouldn't be able to come home and just relax unless I made the day disappear.”

Clint nods. “That’s fair. I didn’t think you were upset, but you know I’ve gotta ask.”

“I know,” Phil says quietly. “And I’m sorry it had to happen too. I know you were saying this morning that you were in the mood for a good scene tonight."

Clint shrugs. "There's always tomorrow," he says, unconcerned. It's much more important for him to keep to his hard limits - nothing sexual on the days Phil goes little. "And no need to apologize. You know that giving you the things you need makes me happy."

"You definitely gave me what I needed. Thank you."

"You're welcome, sweet...heart."

Phil just smiles understandingly. They both know that Phil is always his good, sweet, beautiful boy, but after spending a whole little scene referring to Phil as his 'boy', Clint prefers to keep the endearments more age neutral for a little while. He always makes sure to bring them back, of course - after the initial fiasco of Clint not realising he’d stopped calling Phil his sweet boy during the negotiation stage, Clint never wants Phil to feel like something’s been taken away from him because he dared to ask for something he needed. And Phil knows that it’s only temporary, and never a punishment for Phil asking for what he needs. Tomorrow, everything will be back to normal. 

Tonight is still normal, though. Tonight, with everybody happy and satisfied and content, Clint turns the lights off and draws Phil into his arms and kisses him one last time before they go to sleep - and that’s as normal as it gets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm done here for now - I'm going to leave this one open though, as I may come back to it in the future. I really enjoy the age play world because it's something I still struggle to get my head around and write but is always deeply satisfying to put into words too. I also have plenty of half-formed ideas of Bucky and Phil ending up (usually accidentally) ageing down together and the disaster that happens as a result, so one of those might show up here at some point. But for now, back onwards through the series.


End file.
